Try The Truth

The way my win over Ben Hogan at the 1955 U.S. Open has gonedown in history, you'd think I had no chance. How could anunknown like me beat the great Hogan in an 18-hole playoff atthe Olympic Club? I was so overmatched, according to what I'veread in golf magazines and newspapers, that when I hit a badshot in the playoff and Hogan had to wait, I said, "Mr. Hogan,I'm sorry, I'll try and improve my golf and speed up play."

Now, I understand that people like legends. Writers in barroomsespecially like legends! But isn't the truth interesting, too? Iwas an excellent driver of the ball and a good ironsplayer--good enough that Hogan made a set of clubs for me. Hethought Jack Fleck could help bring credibility to hisclub-design business. In fact he and I were the only onesplaying Hogan clubs during the '55 Open. (Years later he jokedthat giving me those clubs "might have been a mistake.")

I was accurate enough to keep the ball in the fairway, and Iputted great that week, at least by my standards. Straightdrives and good putts--isn't that how you win the Open? I alsokept my concentration all week. I felt a calm that was likeself-hypnosis. I slept 9 1/2 hours the night before the playoff,then went out and denied Hogan his fifth U.S. Open title.

Still, people believe a lie that is unfair to both of us. Afterall, Hogan was a great competitor. He wouldn't want it said thathe lost to a guy who couldn't play, and I can tell you that hedidn't feel that way. He hated losing, but he knew I had beatenhim fair and square. At the end of our playoff he shook my hand,looked me in the eye and said, simply, "Congratulations."